Revenge of the Jedi
by Tiger Hunter
Summary: 5 Jedi Padawans, the sole survivors of the massacre at the temple, have joined forces with the Rebellion more than a decade after Order 66. The first few chapters aren't that good, but if you keep reading, it gets better.
1. Graveyard Shift

Captain Kia Mast of the Imperial Star Destroyer _Obliterator _glanced at the chrono as he made his way onto the bridge. It read 0023, Coruscant time, which the ship ran on when not in port. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. His uniform, usually as tidy as he (actually the laundry droids) could make it, was wrinkled, he had bags under his eyes, and the usual grace in his step was unusually absent.

Major Grad, who currently had command of the bridge, looked up at the catwalk above the control console he was examining.

"Can't sleep, sir?" He asked.

"No, major."

"Is their anything I can do, sir?" He asked, making his way up the ramp to join his captain. "You know I canadjust the temperature in your quarters, send for a-"

"No thank you, major."

"Sir, I really think you should have a medical droid examine you." This wasn't the first, second, or even third time the captain had visited the bridge in the middle of the night.

"Maybe tomorrow, major."

Grad knew that the captain never would, but let the subject drop anyway. The captain liked to maintain friendly relations with his crew, but there was still a limit.

He came up beside his captain and glanced out to see what he was looking at. There was nothing, of course. There was nothing around for several miles, except the occasional pirate, smuggler, or rebel who used this (supposedly) deserted area as a jump-off point.

What was… he glanced at a flash of color he had noticed to his left, at the same time that his captain's head turned toward the same spot. His mouth twisted into a sadistic smile. The _Obliterator _was about to gain another kill.

The young lieutenant watching the scanners already had it. "Captain-"

"I see it. YT-1300?"

"1500, actually. He's already in tractor range."

_Yes… but why hasn't he tried to evade?_

"Order him to stand down."

"Done, sir." These things had become so commonplace that the bridge crew had recorded a message instructing the target to do just that, to save their voice.

"Sir, target has radioed in that he is powering down weapons and is bringing his ship to idle."

"And is he telling the truth?" Mast asked.

"Yes, sir. Weapons are powered down and engines have been brought to idle."

"Any life forms aboard?"

"Just the pilot."

"Ok, get a welcoming party into the hangar. Prepare for tractor."

"Locked."

"Fire."

The ship shook slightly as the invisible beam of energy took hold of it.

"Bring it in."

"Yes, sir. Open hangar doors."

Mast felt the familiar rumble as the giant doors cranked open to accept the ship's newest guest.

"Team 1 reports that the ship is in."

"Close hangar doors."

The doors slid shut just as the tractors set the ship down. The ship could not escape now- the hangar doors were thick enough to withstand up to 5 direct hits from proton torpedoes-, but one of the stormtroopers in the hangar gave it a blast with a handheld ion cannon, just to make sure.

The ramp lowered-it operated on a hydraulic system rather than an electrical one- and the stormtroopers leveled their blaster rifles.

"You are now a prisoner of the Empire. Come out with your hands in the air." The squad's leader announced, the volume system in his helmet turned all the way up.

The squad waited, cautious but not tense. After all, there was only one life form aboard, wasn't there?

Suddenly, 5 figures, each armed with a glowing blade of blue or green, shot out of the opening.


	2. Escape Velocity

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful review! (Let's try to add an 's' this time). Ok, heres a short falshback chapter about how the Jedi escaped.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars

The screams of the wounded and the dying filled the air, joining the smoke and the sounds of blaster fire. None of the Jedi even paused to wonder why their own army was attacking them. There would be time to wonder about that later. They threw themselves into the battle with gusto, trading the lives of at least a dozen clones before finally being taken down. But there were thousands of clones, and only a few hundred Jedi, whose most gifted fighters were away on other worlds.

And besides, the clones had another advantage-surprise. And with surprise came the ability to dictate the terms of the battle.

Most of the Jedi, meditating in their private quarters, had suddenly felt a strange buzzing instead of the Force. It was an effect they were all familiar with-they felt it all the time in the presence of the clone troopers. Opening the doors to see what was going on, they were cut down by blaster fire, having been stripped of any warning the Force would have given them.

Those Jedi who were lucky enough to have been wandering the temple had ample time to draw their lightsabers and fight. But they were too spread out to mount an effective resistance, and one by one they died at the hands of soldiers who even 6 hours ago would have snapped to attention and requested orders.

A Jedi's life begins at a young age, so young that they do not even remember their parents. They are taken, if the parents so consent, from their homes to the temple and are taught how to use the force. When they turn ten, they become eligible to become the padawan of one of the masters. However, not all are picked immediately-some never are, and are sent to far-off 3rd-galaxy planets to try and improve the quality of life of the people-as was the case of the 5 adventurous 12-year olds who had snuck out of the temple to explore the lower levels of Coruscant.

Laughing and joking, they were blissfully unaware of the deaths of their instructors, until they returned just before dawn the next day to find the temple smoking. Unsure as to what to do, or even as to what had happened, they held a hurried conference came to the conclusion that the safest place to be was any planet but this one. So they had snuck into the nearest spaceport, and hijacked an old AR-72 transport that had probably been worth less than nothing. As it turned out, the "owner" of the transport had acquired it in much the same way, and so never reported the theft. The small transport had left Coruscant unmolested by the planet's security forces, and made the jump into hyperspace, never to return.


	3. Prisoners of the Rebellion

A/N: My reviews increased by 100 percent for this chapter! Thank you JediPirateElfyDude (sure, thats fine) and Dante-Raven! Lets go for three this time, OK?

Disclaimer: Are you really thick enough to think that George Lucas would be writing Fan Fiction?

There they were, just like he had expected. Ten Imperial stormtroopers, lined up on either side of the ramp in predictable columns of 5, blaster rifles leveled. One of them, probably the squad leader, has holding a radio and a pistol instead of his rifle. It was just bad luck that he was the closest one to Lak Jopari.

His green lightsaber lanced out, cleaving the trooper in two around the middle. He was surprised when no blood came out. It was the first time he'd killed with a lightsaber.

Summoning the Force, he jump straight over the left coumn, of stormtroopers, landing behind them. He slashed at the rear two, killing them before they could even turn to face this new threat.

By the time the white-hot armor hit the ground, his fellow Jedi had already carved through the other troopers. Not one of the dead men had even been able to fire back.

Or, more importantly, get word to the bridge.

Now came the hard part. Lowering their body temperatures and bringing their heartbeats almost to a complete stop to fool the Imperial scanners had been easy, as had dispatching the 'welcoming party.' Now they had to make their way to the bridge undetected.

"Let's go."

Lightsabers humming, Lak, a brownish-blonde haired human, and his fellow Jedi, Grend Jopari, another human and Lak's identical twin, Aaspra Pute, a female, squid-like Quarren from Mon Calamari, Scree Ott, a female human with black hair that perfectly matched the spit-shined imperial hanger, and Iter Wasp, a male Rodian, moved toward the blast doors. They were sealed, of course, in case the ship had been packed full of explosives which had (accidentally or purposely) gone off, but that was, of course no obstacle for the Jedi. Armed with their lightsabers and a few of the stormtrooper's pistols, the moved out into the deserted hallway.

"Any word from the hangar, major?"

"No, captain."

"They should have reported in by now."

"Perhaps their radio malfunctioned?" ­­­ asked hopefully.

Mast turned. "Do you really believe that?"

"No," he admitted.

"Send another squad down there. Immediately."

"Yes, sir. Lieutenant?"

"Working on it now, sir."

The entire bridge shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Having an armed rebel aboard did not exactly appeal to them.

Iter, the group's unofficial point man, held up his hand. He heard something.

It was a while before any of the others heard it. Rodians had superior hearing to any of the others.

But when they did, it was unmistakable. It was the sound of metallic boots marching on a metal floor.

Another squad was heading their way.

They squeezed up against the wall, knowing that mind tricks would be useless against these soldiers, no doubt alert for any intruders.

The first two-they were again marching in two columns of five each-rounded the corner.

They stopped dead, raising their blasters up the their shoulders to shoot-

_Too slow. _Lak thought, as he fired the blaster pistol, set on stun just like the other Jedi's, into the columns. None of the troopers fired a single shot.

After taking their five of the rifles (and the radio), and rendering those useless with their lightsabers, they stripped half of the men of their armor-which was, this time, fully intact-and donned it themselves. Tucking their lightsabers into the belt-one of the pockets seemed as though it had been built for that exact purpose-the five Jedi/stormtroopers moved in the direction the troopers had come.

"What is going on!" Mast nearly screamed, his temper amplified by the lack of sleep.

As if to answer that question, the door to the bridge began sparking.

_That was easy,_ Lak thought, his lightsaber easily carving a circle in the thin metal of the bridge door.

He somersaulted through, followed by his fellow Jedi-actually, stormtroopers armed with lightsabers. He smiled behind the helmet. "You are now prisoners of the Rebel Alliance. Please remain where you are."


	4. Treachery

A/N: Well, I started writing chap. 4 and I figured that this was a good place to stop. So, here you go.

Disclaimer: I'm getting tired of doing these, so once and for all, I do not own Star Wars.

Lak lowered his blaster pistol at the captain.

"Shut down the ship's computer. Now."

"Yes. Yes of course." He signaled one of the officers working the consoles. About 5 seconds later, all the consoles blinked off.

He moved forward, placing his pistol against the captain's temple. Behind him, all the other Jedi had their blasters trained on the officers.

"Good boy. Now tell me how I get into the computer when I turn it on again." He didn't see Major Grad slowly draw a blaster behind his captain's back.

"You mean the passcode?"

"Yes," Lak replied, reaching out into the man's mind with the Force.

_6H84765HD67 _he heard the man think. He immediately used the force to imprint that thought in his memory forever.

"HD57389GYT678" he heard the man say.

Before anything else could happen, a shot rang out on the bridge.

Captain Mast fell to the floor, a burnt hole in his back.

Behind him, Major Grad adjusted the still smoking pistol towards Lak.


	5. Death

A/N: Sorry for the delay. But I have two excuses. 1: I couldn't resist hanging that cliffie over your heads for a while. 2: I had Homecoming yesterday, then this morning I went to church and then my parents dragged me all the way to Indiana to pick out our pumpkins for Halloween (hello, there's a Jewel right across the street from th house with a thousand pumpkins outside) and so now I finally have a chance to update. Sorry its so short, but I started sympathizing with you about the cliffie (I must be getting soft) and wanted to resolve it as soon as possible. By the way, I turned on anonymous reviews (well, I'm going to) and I want 3 reviews before I update again. By different people.I have 202 reads and 6 reviews, for goodness' sake! Here you go.

Grad squeezed the trigger at the same time that Lak swung his lightsaber at the blaster, cleaving the pistol-and most of Grad's fingers-in half, just as Scree took him down with a shot that landed squarely at the base of his neck-causing instant death. Lak briefly wondered where she had learned to shoot so well before the pain overwhelmed him, and he allowed himself to succumb to the blackness beckoning to him.

Scree instantly spun around at the sound of blaster fire. Relieved to see the captain was the victim and not one of her comrades, the relief instantly turned to horror as the falling body revealed an imperial officer with his blaster pointed at Lak.

Without thinking, letting the Force guide her hands, she leveled the blaster and pulled the trigger.

She saw it hit-how had she managed to shoot so well?-at the same time that the major's shot hit Lak. She knew that at that range, his armor would have been useless, even against such a small caliber weapon. Rushing to Lak's side, she mentally berated herself. She hadn't even considered the possibility that the bridge crew might be armed. And now Lak was dead as a result. She'd never forgive herself.


	6. Rebirth

A/N: Ok, apparently my hardliner policy didn't go over so well, so I'm cancelling it. Goes on long, guilt-inspireingrant about how people don't even care enough to spend an extra 10 seconds of their time reviewing And so, without further ado-

Scree knelt down beside Lak's body, reaching out to him with the Force. Miraculously, she still felt something. Lak was alive.

But he was weak. His body couldn't heal the wound on its own. This was something that a medpak couldn't fix. He needed a bacta bath. And fast.

But outside the bridge there were stormtroopers patrolling the winding passages that made up the ship. Of course, that could be changed.

She abruptly stood up and whirled around to face the bridge crew. "Send a message via intercom. Tell everybody to get back to their bunks right the _hell NOW!_" She couldn't let Lak die. Not when it would be her fault. "And if anybody else has a weapon and does not give it to us immediately, I will personally shoot you."

The Imperial who was responsible for communications, still wondering what was going on, who these lightsaber-wielding stormtroopers were, relayed the order.

There was no time to lose waiting for the order to be carried out. She lifted Lak up with the Force, at the same time ordering the weapons control officer to guide her to the medcenter. It wasn't like he had much to do now anyways, what with the star destroyer's computer shut down. After giving him a quick check for weapons, she roughly shoved him through the hole in the bridge door-normally she would have laughed as the officer did a poor somersault and hit his head on the floor, but recent events had somehow dulled her sense of humor-and followed, guiding Lak through after them.

Somehow, they made it there without encountering anybody. After knocking on the door to the doctor's quarters-he had private ones adjoining the medcenter-he immediately set to work preparing Lak for submersion. People are always eager to help you when you put a gun to their head.

First he stripped off Lak's stormtrooper armor, then the Jedi tunic he wore under that-Scree pointedly looked away and thought that she should have had Grend take him down-before finally submerging him in the tank. Scree breathed a sigh of relief the second he was in. He would live. Bacta could heal almost any wound.

In the distance, she could hear a rumble as a tractor beam forced the hangar doors open-they should have had them opened before shutting down the ship's computer, she thought.

Phase 2 of Operation Rainstorm was underway.


	7. Capture

AN: Come on people, 18 hits on chap. 6 and only two reviews? Please tell me what you think, even if you think that its crap. Please? Although if you read all the way to chap. 6, you obviously liked it... so show your appreciation by leaving a review!And now, phase 2 of Operation Rainstorm-

After their tractor beams grudgingly forced the hangar doors open, 4 dropships full of Rebel commandos set down in the belly of the Star Destroyer. They came out in single file, immediately assembling in their assigned groups and moving out through the ship. Each group combed its sector quickly and thoroughly, opening doors and disarming the gaping stormtroopers. There was only one case of resistance, and the offending stormtrooper was immediately shot dead by the commandos.

After herding all the prisoners into the hangar, where it was easier to keep an eye on them, the commandos sat down to wait for the next wave.

The next wave was really only a single transport escorted by two Y-wing fighters. Onboard that transport was the Rebel Alliance's most senior commander-save Mon Mothma herself-General Jan Dodonna.

After conferring with the commando leaders, Dodonna met with Scree, Grend, Aaspra and Iter in the ship's conference room for an unofficial debriefing.

"So, besides Lak's injury, everything went smoothly?"

"Yes. Despite Major Grad's efforts, we know the code for the Destroyer's onboard computer." This was an important development. The computer contained everything from whether or not the newest crewmember was married to the ships itinerary for the next few months.

"Really. He told it to you?"

"No. He lied, but Lak managed to retrieve the real code from his mind."

"How is Lak?"

"He's recovering nicely. The doctor said that he should be fully capable by the end of the week."

"Excellent. Now, did he happen to mention what the code was?"

They told him.

"Excellent," he said, jotting it down in his datapad. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

He went out onto the bridge, where the crew he had brought with him had just finished setting up. He walked over to the computer terminal and input the passcode. After the consoles blinked back to life, which took a few minutes, so vast was the amount of information that they traded, he immediately set his best slicer to work retrieving the important information. Once that was done, he brought the man into the conference room, where his other officers had already started to arrive. They immediately set to work planning their next move.


	8. Karrde

A/N: The next few chapters shift focus away from the Jedi and start setting up the scene for not telling. hah.. Those of you who have read Timothy Zahn's SW books will already know all about Karrde, and if you haven't, I highly recommend them. They're excellent. And by the way, Emily, I have every right to call your chapters short. This one may not be very long, but its still longer than yours was.

The sun was just setting over the water world of Varn. Advertised as 'Varn-World of Water' in travelogues, scenes such as the majestic sunset that Talon Karrde was now looking at had helped make it a popular vacation spot.

But there were places that tourists typically didn't go-namely, anywhere that there wasn't a tour guide to hold their hand and guide them all the way through-and those areas made effective rendezvous points for meetings that people would prefer to keep discreet.

Karrde worked for a man named Jorj Car'das. Considered a smuggler by many, which he technically was, Car'das dealt mainly with information. He had an extensive library which included almost every scrap of information that a person could want-from the name of the person who discovered Kessel to the Emperor's sex life.

Which was thriving, Karrde new. He had personally seen the blueprints for the Imperial Palace, and a large section of the building had been set aside for Palpatine's concubines.

As an intermediate member of Car'das' organization, not quite junior, not quite senior, he was responsible for making deal payoffs.

Which was exactly why he was out here, he reminded himself, scanning the horizon for his contact.

There, coming directly out of the sunset, like the end of some cowboy movie in reverse, was a man riding a wave skimmer. Whether that man was Karrde's contact or an Imperial coming to arrest him was unknown to Karrde.

The man pulled up alongside Karrde. He wasn't dressed in stormtrooper armor, and Karrde figured that that was a good sign.

After the usual "You got the money?" "Yeah, you got the stuff?" exchange, Karrde passed the man a datacard, which the man immediately stuffed into his datapad. He checked to make sure that the information was on the card, then reached into his pocket for the credits-

And pulled out a blaster, which he pointed at Karrde. He smiled sadistically.

"You didn't really think that the Empire would just let you give away this information, did you Talon?"


	9. Rescue

A/N: 3 reviews for one chapter! New record!Whichissad. Pleeeeeaaaase spend and extra few seconds sending a review! Thank you JediPirateElfyDude, Dante-Raven and Emily for all the wonderful reviews! In answer to your questions... JediPirateElfyDude-I thought about it, but then I realized that, assuming Luke chose to marry someone roughly his own age and not someone ten years older than him (ew), Mara is about ten right now, and still in training. I might throw her in during one of the Palpatine scenes, but nothing important to the plot. Dante-Raven-the Jedi were 12 at the time of Episode III, and its 10 years later, so they're in their early 20's now.

Talon Karrde knew that it was the end of the road for him. The agent who had arrested him had hidden his gun when he had taken him back to the tourist center, despite the fact that everyone was in bed at this time of night, instead placing it in a pocket, which he kept pressed up against Karrde as a reminder of his presence. Not that Karrde needed it. His mind was already spinning, trying to determine a way to get out of this situation. But there just wasn't one.

Suddenly the man stopped. Karrde took an extra step, but then stopped as well. He didn't want the man to shoot him.

The man leaned in close to him. "There is a refresher 3 meters to your left. Go into it and find a stall. Stay in for exactly 5 minutes. Then come back out here. I'll be waiting."

Karrde did exactly as he was told. The refresher was empty, as was to be expected after dark. He walked into one of the stalls and sat down on the toilet.

He heard the door open, and two people walked in. He couldn't see them, but he could hear them conversing in low whispers. Until the door opened again then they abruptly stopped.

Then Karrde heard something that nearly made him jump out of his skin.

Blaster fire.

He heard the thud of a body hitting the ground, and then-

"You can come out now."

It was a different voice than the one belonging to the man who had escorted him here. Swallowing, wondering what was going on and if he was about to be shot dead, Karrde opened the door and stepped out.

For the second time that day, he found the business end of a blaster stuck in his face.


	10. A Little Ride

A/N: Here's the drill, people. I'm going to my dad's house this weekend, and for some strange reason his computer is incompatible with the upload software thingamajig. So, to make up for the delay that will be experienced, you get... TWO chapters! And as a reward for working so hard in the past 24 hours, you will give me oodles and oodles of reviews! Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaase?

"You're Talon Karrde?"

"Yes."

He held up the datacard. "This yours?"

"Yes." He reached for it. "Than-"

"Whoa, not so fast buddy." He pocketed it. "I keep this. Now, you work for Jorj Car'das." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Karrde admitted. He technically shouldn't have said that, but the man had saved his life. He figured he owed him at least that one scrap of information.

"Ok. You and I are goin' for a little ride, buddy."

That 'little ride' turned out to be a rather large ride, In Karrde's opinion. He had been locked in the back of this old yacht for at least three days. He had lost track of time. His chrono had been taken, for, he believed, that exact purpose. Whether it was supposed to be an interrogation technique or to prevent him from figuring out how long their trip was, he didn't know.

He could tell, however, when the ship exited hyperspace. It wasn't hard, you could easily notice the absence of the slight trembling caused by the hyperdrive.

After a few hours, however they entered hyperspace for the second time. What had happened during the brief interlude, Karrde could only guess.

Finally, after another at least three day trip, the ship exited hyperspace for what turned out to be the last time.

The door opened, and the man who had brought him aboard the yacht stepped in. He held up a blindfold. "Put this on."

Karrde complied wordlessly. He was then taken down the ramp, and then a distance of about 50 feet before being led up another ramp and through a series of passageways. Finally the blindfold was removed to reveal the man Karrde had been least expecting to see.

General Jan Dodonna.


	11. General Dodonna

"Hello Talon." Dodonna said, motioning for Karrde to take a seat. "Alright if I call you that?"

Karrde sat down in the chair. "I suppose, sir."

"Very good. Now, I believe you work for Jorj Car'das?"

"And _I_ believe that you already know the answer to that question, general."

Dodonna smiled. "I think I like you, kid."

Karrde bristled. "Kid, sir?"

"I'm nearly forty. You're still in your twenties."

"I suppose, sir." Karrde said, glancing around. The interior of the ship told him that he was in the conference room of a Rebel transport.

"Well, Talon, I think I've taken up enough of your time," Dodonna said, standing up. "Here is the data you were trying to sell." He handed over the datacard. Karrde had no doubt that he had already copied its contents onto another card. "And here-" he handed over another datacard "Is the time and place of a meeting I would like for you to arrange between myself and Jorj."

Karrde finally realized what was going on. "I will do that sir. But I can't make any guarantees that Car'das will attend."

"That's alright. Just ask him to be there, alright?"

"Yes sir." He saw Dodonna motion to somebody behind him. He was again blindfolded and led back to the yacht, then locked in the back. He felt the ship take off, then make another jump into hyperspace.

After a few hours-Karrde was sufficiently disorientated that he had no clue whether it was two or ten-the ship exited hyperspace and touched down for what he hoped would be the last time.

The man opened the door and led Karrde out. There was no blindfold this time.

"You know how to fly this thing?"

Karrde glanced at the controls. They looked basic enough. "I think so."

"In that case, she's all yours."

The man walked down the ramp. Karrde went to the cockpit just in time to see him climb into the gunner's seat of a Z-95 headhunter, which promptly took off and vanished into space.

Karrde started the ship and took off. He had to get back to Car'das. And fast.


	12. His Majesty

A/N: So. I work extra hard so that you could have two chapters to read over the weekend, and what do I get as a reward? **_ONE MEASLY REVIEW! BY SOMEBODY I PERSONALLY KNOW! JEDIPIRATEELFYDUDE AND DANTE-RAVEN, WHERE'D YOU GO? AND SHELLEY KNIGHT AND MASTEROFALLDIMENSIONS, I AM IN YOUR FAVORITES/C2, BUT YOU DON'T REVIEW! REVIEW, PEOPLE!_**

Dodonna watched as the yacht vanished out of the _Obliterator_'s hangar. When it had vanished into hyperspace, he turned and made his way to the ship's conference room.

He didn't get lost-a first for him, this ship was huge-and entered the door to find his senior commanders and the Jedi-including the fully recovered Lak-waiting for him. He sat down at the head of the table.

The timing of this could hardly have been better. The information Karrde had been carrying-Karrde was correct in thinking that the Rebels and copied it-was a map of a high value Imperial target, along with statistics on defenses and other important information. It just so happened that the _Obliterator_ was scheduled to supplement the garrison there in three days' time.

They immediately began planning the assault.

In the tallest tower of the Imperial palace, a young Imperial officer waited patiently for his Emperor's attention. Palpatine had given orders saying that he was not to be disturbed-meaning that he was probably busy entertaining one of his harems. No one would ever know, of course. There were not-so-secret passages connecting the Emperor's quarters to those of his mistresses.

Finally, the holographic communicator sparked to life, displaying a grotesquely large portrait of the head of the most powerful man in the galaxy.

The officer had known what to expect, but he still jumped at the sight. He immediately bowed, averting his eyes from those of the man he was pledged to serve.

"Enter."

"Yes, your Majesty."

The door slid open to admit him. Careful to keep his eyes on the floor, he took a deep breath and entered the room.

When he was standing in front of the throne, he knelt down, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Yes?"

"Your Majesty, we have a disturbing development on Varn."

"And?"

"Two Imperial officers were shot and killed in a refresher. They were on-planet to arrest Talon Karrde, and employee of Jorj Car'das, a smuggler and information trader."

"I see. And why was Karrde on-planet?"

"He was making a delivery of a datacard containing some highly sensitive information. Exactly what it was, we do not know, but we received an anonymous tip that the information would be disastrous in the hands of the rebels."

"I see. And Karrde's contact?"

"He was arrested by the two officers prior to their capture of Karrde."

"So they succeeded in capturing Karrde and were then killed."

"Yes, your Majesty. Karrde escaped, but we still have his contact in custody. So far he has been rather resistant, but General Cody is confident that he will talk."

"And if it is discovered that he knows nothing about the contents of that datacard?"

"Then he will be considered expendable." The officer shivered. That was the polite way of saying that Cody's stormtroopers would use him for target practice.

"Excellent." The Emperor paused for a few moments. "Very well. Keep me informed of any developments in this matter."

"Yes, your Majesty." The officer left the room as fast as he could without being rude.


	13. Revelations

General Dodonna's personal transport, the _Liberty_, hung in orbit around the uninhabited world of Caamas. The planet had once been home to a thriving population of Caamasi, a people beloved by everybody in the galaxy.

Except one group of people had hated them enough to completely and utterly destroy them. After a 'malfunction' of Caamas' planetary shield generators, a huge battle group had swooped down and lain waste to the planet, singing the atmosphere so badly that it was no longer breathable, and forcing the survivors of the bombardment to flee the planet.

And so now both the planet and the area of space around it were completely deserted, making it another excellent place for a discreet rendezvous.

The transport, on the possibility that Car'das would betray them and tell the Empire of Dodonna's location, had already calculated a jump to hyperspace, and could be gone in five seconds time if a fleet of Star Destroyers suddenly appeared from hyperspace.

But, as it turned out, Car'das had decided to come. He was welcomed aboard the transport, along with a contingent of bodyguards-neither side particularly trusted the other-and was ushered to the conference room. After the handshakes and pleasantries, the meeting began.

Far away, in a dank, dark room in the very back of the brig of the Star Destroyer _Merciless_, a man was being tortured.

After the simple methods of sleep deprivation and starvation had failed, General Cody had progressed to a newer, more unorthodox form of torture-sensory deprivation.

The technology was surprisingly simple. The subject, a human male in his 30s, had been stunned and, while unconscious, placed in a sub-aqua suit with a mask that had been painted over. He had then been lowered into a tank of water, the salt content of which had been carefully calculated so that its visitor floated exactly in the middle.

Upon awaking, the man had immediately noticed that he couldn't feel anything, not even his own skin. He slapped the place where he though his chest was, but the thick cushioning of the wetsuit absorbed the blow. He couldn't see a thing. He screamed, but a device that Cody didn't completely understand the workings of blacked that out too. He could smell nothing-the air inside his helmet was completely odorless. He could taste nothing but his own saliva.

The process was a slow one. The victim required time to attempt to come to terms with this new development. However, even if he had known what was happening to him, he still would have eventually succumbed to the necessity of sensory information. The longest record for resisting this form of torture was 18 hours. On a stormtrooper volunteer who had known exactly what was happening to him.

However, the man who was currently in the tank had neither the determination of a stormtrooper nor the knowledge of what was happening to him.

When the physician running the 'operation' identified the subject as in the final phase of desperation, he activated a microphone in the man's helmet. After being asked, the man immediately told the physician everything. The physician immediately contacted General Cody.

The Emperor himself needed to hear about this.


	14. Lord Vader

A/N: **_REVIEW!_**

The officer, cursing his bad luck, once again knelt before his Emperor's throne. In the window behind-actually in front, his Majesty had not bothered to face the man-Palpatine, he could just barely make out the edges of the window that contained a spectacular view of the cityscape of Coruscant.

"Yes?" The Emperor began.

"Your Majesty, the man in Cody's custody has finally broken."

"Excellent. And?"

"He says that he was purchasing a datacard containing classified information regarding the shipyards at Fondor."

"Indeed? And who was he making this purchase for?"

"He claims to be working for Trom Cadla, a smuggler whom we've connected to the rebels in the past."

"Most distressing."

"I agree, your Majesty."

"Thank you for your report. Now leave me."

"Yes, your Majesty."

When the officer was gone, Palpatine pressed a button on the armrest of his throne.

On the bridge of the Star Destroyer _Devastator_, a junior officer manning the communications console noticed a blinking light start flashing.

"Captain Vevel."

"Yes, lieutenant?"

"The Emperor wishes to speak to Lord Vader."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I shall inform him."

Wishing that he could send a junior officer in his place, the man pivoted around and made his way along the catwalk to the back of the bridge. From there he made the few steps that it took to reach Vader's private chambers. He pressed the buzzer and got an immediate response.

"Enter."

Barely managing not to tremble, Vevel opened the door and stepped inside. Hewould have preferred to simply inform Vader through the intercom, but the Sith Lord preferred to hold his meetings in person.

The most feared man in the galaxy-and even more feared onboard the Star Destroyer-Vevel had gained his rank from the death of the previous captain-sat, his back to Vevel in his private meditation chamber. Through the cracks that were present when it was open, Vevel could just barely see the back of Vader's helmet.

The chamber slowly turned around. Vevel stood perfectly still, his back straight with his hands clasped behind him.

The chamber completed its rotation.

A man, if he could still be called that, dressed all in black, with a helmet Vevel could have sworn had been crafted to look intimidating sat before him.

Vevel had no clue why Vader wore the suit, but he had heard rumors when he was a cadet that it was because he had sustained a major injury at the hands on the Jedi traitors.

Which made him all the more admirable. And no less fearsome.

"What is it, Captain Vevel?"

Trying with all his might to keep his voice steady, Vevel spoke.

"My Lord, the Emperor wishes to speak to you at once."

"Very well. I shall abide by his wishes. You may leave."

"Yes, my Lord."

He had survived another meeting with the Dark Lord of the Sith. Strange that 30 seconds could go by so slowly.

Once he was gone, Vader turned the chamber around again. He stood walked over to his personal holocom, and pressed the red button located on the rim. He then knelt down to wait.

He waited for perhaps 5 minutes. It was the Emperor's way of making sure that he knew his place.

The hologram flickered to life, revealing a giant blowup of his master's head.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?" he asked.

"Lord Vader. I have just received word that the rebels may plan to attack Fondor."

"Impossible, my Master. The defenses there are far greater tha-"

"The rebels are not fools, my apprentice. If they plan to attack Fondor, then they must have acquired the firepower necessary to destroy those defenses. Besides, I have foreseen it."

"What is thy bidding?"

"Take your squadron to Fondor to reinforce the defenses there. Crush the rebel terrorists once and for all."

"It shall be done, my Master."

The hologram flickered into nothingness. Vader rose and sat back down in his chair. He turned it to the flatscreen projector on the wall.

It flickered to life, revealing Captain Vevel observing one of the junior officers at his console.

He turned, hearing the buzzing that indicated that Vader wished to speak with him. "Yes, Lord Vader?"

"Move the squadron to Fondor immediately. And contact the garrison there. Order them to increase their alert status."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

Vader terminated the transmission.


	15. The Battle of Fondor

A/N: This chapter is my longest yet, so please**_ REVIEW!_**

General Dodonna nervously paced the catwalk on the bridge of the Star Destroyer that had once been know as the _Obliterator_, since renamed the _Kenobi_ after the Jedi Knight who (presumably) died fighting the Empire. All the efforts of the past three days were about to come to fruition. Or disaster.

The _Kenobi _slid smoothly out of hyperspace, and into the Fondor shipyards.

Just as she had been ordered to do.

No one suspected a thing.

On the bridge, General Dodonna stood on the catwalk facing the window. He, as well as rest of the bridge crew, was dressed in an Imperial uniform, lest some hotshot fighter pilot get close enough to get a peek at the bridge.

Before him was a plethora of ships, civilians, scurrying around the shipyard, covering the planet of Fondor with shifting black dots, like flies moving in front of a flatscreen projector.

Next to him, the holoprojector beeped. He pressed the button, and two quarter-sized images of the captains of the _Merciless_ and the _Saber,_ two _Imperial_-class Star Destroyers, both less than a year old and equipped with the best weaponry the Empire's scientists could offer.

"Greetings, Captain Mast."

Dodonna killed a smile. He had tasked his best slicers to setting up the transmitter so that it displayed Dodonna as the late captain to the person on the other end of the link.

"We are now moving to flank you. Please prepare to receive us onboard your ship."

"Thank you, Captain Traffer. I will order my crew to prepare for you arrival. I'll be waiting."

He glanced at the chrono. Assuming that Imperials hurried over fast enough, he should be able to capture them. An added bonus to a particularly rewarding operation.

"Get a welcoming party down to the hangar."

"Yes, sir."

Ten minutes later-"Sir, hangar reports that they have both officers in custody. Their transports are secured.

Dodonna glance at the chrono. 20 seconds left.

"Fire."

At once, green bolts of lethal energy shot into the unsuspecting Star Destroyers, followed almost immediately by a barrage of proton torpedoes. The sleek, dagger-shaped Star Destroyers, caught with their pants (and shields) down, their men lax and not at battle stations, failed realize what was happening until it was too late. The _Kenobi_ pulled away from the burning hulks of what had once been the symbol of terror to the people of Fondor.

And lying within them were the bodies of 20,000 men, not all of whom had served the Empire willingly.

"Sithspawn!"

"What is it, lieutenant?" the commanding officer of the Golan I Space Defense Platform asked.

"The _Obliterator_ just blew the _Merciless_ and the _Saber_ straight to hell!"

"My gosh…" the officer breathed, staring at the hulking wrecks through the viewport. The sentiment was echoed, in various other forms, by those of the crew who had managed to recover their wits.

The com buzzed. The officer manning the console pressed it and listened to the transmission.

"Commander, we're receiving a message from the _Obliterator_. The ship is under the control of the rebels and they'redemanding immediate surrender," he reported in a panicked tone. "What should we do?"

The Commander considered his options.

"We fight. We're stalemated as far as firepower, but we have more shields than they do."

"Yes, sir."

"Tell them that."

The officer relayed the message into the mike.

Two seats over, the officer watching the scanner looked up nervously. "Sir…"

Dodonna watched as the captured squadrons of TIE fighters, many of them slaved to the few that were actually piloted due to the lack of sentient pilots, swarmed out of the hangar.

He glanced at his chrono. 3, 2, 1… he glanced up. 0.

About 5 squadrons of Y-wing fighters, 11 rebel transports, seven Corellian Corvettes, at least a dozen Corellian gunships, and scads of souped-up freighters shot out of hyperspace immediately behind the _Kenobi_. As he watched, the corvettes began launching 'ugly' fighters, spaceships created by welding broken pieces of crashed or scrapped fighters together. They were usually used by smugglers.

As were these. Only three of the Corvettes were controlled by the Rebels. The rest were part of Car'das smuggling fleet, hired as mercenaries, a role they were well suited to, most of them being dropouts from the Imperial military academy.

And paid in stormtrooper armor, always a valuable commodity on the black market, from the _Obliterator_'s stockpiles.

"Sir, all 5 of the Golans have refused to surrender."

"Send the message again."

A pause. "Sir, 4 of the stations have surrendered, on condition that we take them with us when we leave."

"Tell them that we will do so as soon as they power down and lock their weapons systems. Which one hasn't?"

The officer tapped it on his scanner.

"Order all forces to concentrate their fire on that platform."

The communications officer relayed the order.

"Sir, TIE fighters entering sensor range. They're probably from the garrison on-planet."

"Order the uglies and our own TIEs to engage them."

As soon as the order went out, the lighter fighters veered away from the _Kenobi_, their electronic signatures on the scanner display an almost solid mass.

And on the other side were the Imperial fighters, outnumbered almost 2 to one.

Talon Karrde, having been granted command of, oddly enough, Talon Squadron for his role in making such a profitable deal for his boss, twisted the stick on his ARC-TIE, as this type of ugly was known-it was made by fusing the wings of a TIE fighter onto the body of an old ARC-170. Of course, no two of the craft were exactly alike-it depended of how much of the wreck could be salvaged. The welding of scrap metal into places with missing pieces gave the fighters a not-so-pleasing appearance-hence the term 'ugly.'

The computer beeped-he was now in range of the Imp fighters. Simultaneously, the two sides began trading fire.

Passing the Imperial fighters, Karrde swerved around for another pass, launching a proton torpedo from the makeshift torpedo shaft welded to the bottom of the craft-really a hand-held rocket launcher loaded with a proton torpedo and linked to the ship's computer. He saw it hit before he was immediately absorbed in the ensuing dogfight

"Order the ships to remain immediately outside turbolaser range until I say otherwise," Dodonna ordered. He wanted to give the fleeing civilian ships time to get out of the battle zone.

A few seconds later, the space between the Rebel fleet and the doomed Golanwas clear-the civilians had wasted no time in leaving.

"Move into range and commence fire"

The ships moved a within range, and the firefight began.

The airwaves were filled with calls for assistance, announcements of kills, and the screams of pilots caught in burning craft. Karrde swerved to bring an Imperial into his crosshairs. Squeezing the trigger, a blast from his gun turrets, also haphazardly strapped under the ship, reduced the TIE to dust.

"Talon, leader, you have one on your tail!"

_Sithspawn_. Karrde jerked left, or to port as the wackos who did this stuff for a living called it. "Berry, can you get him?"

"He's swervin' too much!" his gunner replied.

"Talon two, can you get him?"

"Hold on, one, I'm trying to get a lock," his wingman replied.

The computer screeched at him as the TIE began pouring energy into his shields.

The _Kenobi_ had moved so that the tip of the giant wedge that was her body was pointing laterally to the Golan, exposing the massive amount of turbolasers that her straboard side housed to the Golan. All around her, the Rebel fleet was pounding the Golan with turbolaser fire.

Finally, the section of shield the fire was directed at collapsed under the strain. A Star Destroyer would have simply flipped his ship upside down (compared to the other ships-there is no up or down in space) to expose a fully charged section of shield to the barrage, but the stationary Golan lacked that particular option. The lasers and torpedoes, which had before stopped several meters short of the defense platform, began smashing into the massive station.

"Lock acquired-got him!" Talon two screamed over the radio.

_That's a relief._ Karrde still couldn't believe that he was now fighting alongside people who only days before had held blasters to his head. How they had managed to capture that Star Destroyer was beyond him.

He looked around. The Imperial fighter squadrons were smashed, the survivors limping back to base. The Rebels-and Car'das smugglers-had suffered casualties, but his computer, when queried, reported that only 7 friendly signatures had vanished from the scope. Almost before it had begun, the dogfight was over. Karrde turned back toward the capital ships, followed by the rest of the fighters.

Explosion after explosion bracketed the doomed Golan, its batteries resolutely returning fire. But the station was doomed.

Finally, the station vanished in a fiery explosion, having suffered massive damage. Nothing was left but the metal frame the platform had once rested on.

Dodonna did the math in his head. The dockworkers should have had time to get away from the construction docks by now.

He could see the main reason for the attack through the _Kenobi_'s viewport-a dozen _Imperial_-class Star Destoyers, almost completed, but with one fatal flaw-

None of them had had their weapons or propulsion systems installed yet.

They were sitting ducks, completely defenseless and unable to leave the docks they were being constructed at.

The Rebel fleet moved towards the construction docks.

Within five minutes it was all over. Nothing was left of the ships but a few random scraps of metal floating around. The docks, with the heavy machinery needed for the construction of the ships, lay in ruins. Every target in the shipyards with the Imperial logo painted on it had been utterly and totally gutted.

Their work completed, the victorious Rebels vanished into hyperspace.


	16. The Imperial Perspective

A/N: **_REVIEW! REVIEW! _**

Outside the _Devastator_'s view port, the Empire's primary shipyards lay in ruins. It would take months to bring it back to full capability, not to mention to construct new Star Destroyers to replace those lost. The only good news was that the dockworkers had survived-little else had. The rebels had just scored their first major victory against the Empire.

Rage, anger and hatred coursed through every vein in Darth Vader's body. His fleet had shot out of hyperspace mere seconds after the rebels had vanished-only to find this disaster. But below the blind anger that gave him purpose, below the emotions that held him captive to the dark side was the fear. The rebels had a Star Destroyer in their possession.

Guerilla warfare was often the best strategy in a war-you would make strategic strikes against a major enemy, then retreat back to your secret base. However, since the ultimate goal of war was power, and power required large amounts of facilities which simply could not be hidden, the side who currently had it did not have that option-which meant that the side fighting the guerilla campaign knew were the enemy was, but the other side didn't.

But when the side with the power discovered where the side fighting the guerilla campaign was, they obviously had the advantage. For that reason, you kept your forces mobile, and therefore you couldn't construct factories or shipyards with which to build weapons. That meant that you had to steal them, which limited your options to small vessels, keeping the damage that you could do to a minimum.

But now the rebels had somehow managed to acquire an Imperial asset with vast amounts of firepower. They could now quite possibly completely wipe out smaller Imperial garrisons. It was a disaster.

"My Lord?"

Vader turned. "Yes, Captain?"

Vevel tried not to swallow. The life expectancy of an Imperial officer shortened considerably when they were delivering bad news. "My Lord, we have completed our preliminary assessment of the damage done during the terrorist attack."

"And?"

"The shipyards are a total loss. It will take at least a year, probably more, to make them functional again.

"The ships under construction there were also destroyed. It will take another year to reconstruct them _after_ the shipyards have been repaired. In addition, the _Saber _and the _Merciless_ are total losses, along with their crews and fighter complements, and their ground forces. In addition, we lost all five of the Golans and fully a hundred TIE fighters. We estimate the number of human lives lost as at least thirty thousand."

Behind the helmet, Vader's face was a twisted mask of rage. He could no more have prevented this than he could bring his wife back from the dead, but the Emperor would see it all as his fault.


	17. The Rebel Perspective

A/N: **_REVIEW! _**Oh, and one other thing-**_REVIEW!_**

"General Dodonna."

Dodonna turned. The _Kenobi_'s hangar had been completely cleared for a party celebrating the victory, which both the Rebels and Car'das' smugglers were attending. "Yes?"

"We've completed our assessment of losses. We lost two squadrons of TIE fighters, but only three of them were actually piloted. Car'das also tells us that he lost a squadron of fighters, for which we will be making compensations."

The concept of that utterly disgusted Dodonna. Trading away human lives for money. But it was how things worked in the fringe, and the Rebels had little choice but to do business with those types of people.

"And Imperial losses?"

"14 Star Destroyers, five Golan I Space Defense Platforms, at least a hundred TIEs and the shipyards themselves. It should take them at least two years to recover from the blow."

Dodanna's mouth twisted itself into a smile. "Excellent. Begin organizing a memorial service for the pilots we lost."

"Yes, sir." The officer turned to leave. Dodonna grabbed his shoulder.

"_After_ you come celebrate with us."

"Sir, I-"

"That's an order, uh…"

"Lieutenant."

"That's an order, lieutenant."

It was the lieutenant's turn to smile. "Thank you, sir."

"Just don't drink too much. We could be attacked any moment, and it wouldn't turn out very well if the entire army was drunk, would it?"

The officer laughed. "No sir. Don't worry, sir, I'll try to stay sober."

"I wish I could say the same for our smuggler friends."

The lieutenant glanced over. Almost everyone not wearing a rebel uniform was struggling to stay upright. Some had already lost the struggle and had been unceremoniously dragged against the walls.

"And while you're enjoying yourself, ask them a few questions. They may know something valuable."

The lieutenant nodded. Alcohol was the most effective interrogation method ever invented.

The Imperials were too insular to realize that, however. Their answer to everything was brute force. When dissent had begun to break in the galaxy, they had ruthlessly hunted down the leaders. And that crackdown had only strengthened their resolve. It was like the principle that kept objects afloat-you push on the water, and it pushes back. Torture had much the same effect on a person's spirit. It worked against the weak and the cowardly, but not against the people who had the courage to stand up to the tyrants.

A big grin on his face, the young lieutenant moved to join the festivities. Despite what he had told the General, he knew that he would have his worst hangover since he and his friends had a speeder filled with wine for the Imperial governor's palace when he had been 15.


	18. A Big Job

A/N: OMG I'M SO SORRY I FORGOT TO UPDATE! I have no excuse, it just somehow slipped my mind... anyways, here you go.

Lak turned right at the appropriate intersection, following the set of instructions on his datapad. The Empire would, of course, punish the relatives of the men who had decided that they would not throw their lives away fighting a hopeless battle, and therefore they had surrendered on one condition-that their families be rescued. Therefore the Rebels had to rescue them, a big job to which large numbers of commandoes had been assigned.

The drive took an hour, even in the flashy new speeder and completely empty roads. Lak checked the house number against the information the prisoner had provided, then parked the speeder.

He made his way around the back, and entered the courtyard. He took a step through the gate-it was certainly fancy for a low-rank Imperial officer-when he saw something unmistakable off to his right.

Stormtroopers.

There were five of them, unmistakable in their white armor, standing out perfectly against the night.

And they were standing two women against the wall.

Lak activated his lightsaber and Force-leapt into the air, catapulting towards a pair of stormtroopers as they turned around to see what the snap-hiss of his lightsaber was. He landed perfectly in front of them, and swung the lightsaber, neatly slicing both of them in half.

Letting the Force guide his actions rather than consciously thinking, he hurled the lightsaber to his left like a spear, stabbing the trooper in the heart.

He somersaulted, dodging a blast from one of the two remaining troopers. Seizing the lightsaber with the Force, he turned and deflected the second shot directly back at the offending trooper. The bolt sliced through his armor just like Major Grad's shot had penetrated his own, killing the man instantly.

He turned, searching for the final soldier-

And found him holding a blaster to the head of a five-year old girl.

"Drop the laser sword, Jedi."

Lak reached out with the Force, trying to yank the pistol away. But the Imp had anticipated that, and had firmly gripped the gun.

"Try that again and she dies, Jedi. Drop it."

The girl was crying silently, her face coated in tears that glistened in the pale moonlight. Lak briefly wondered where one became heartless enough to hold a child in a pink sleeper hostage before complying.

"Smart move. Kick it towards me."

_The fool._ Lak did.

The trooper bent down to pick it up-

And the blade suddenly came to life with a snap-hiss, spinning up and slicing off the hand holding the gun. Even as the trooper screamed in pain and disbelief, Lak catapulted forward, pulling the lightsaber towards him, landing and decapitating the Imperial. The helmet fell to the ground, bounced, landed, and then stood still as the corpse fell forward to the ground.

Lak deactivated the lightsaber, and for a moment he and the mother and child stood silently in the darkness. The child ran to the mother, still crying silently, and the mother picked it up and began to comfort it.

Lak finally spoke. "Come with me."

Wordlessly, the mother complied. Lak led her, carrying the child, who had finally stopped crying, back to his speeder. "Get in the back."

The mother set the child down for a second, keeping one arm around her. She opened the door and motioned the child in. Lak circled around the front, the climbed into the driver's seat.

Checking to see that the people who's safety he had been charged with were safely in the back, he started the engine.

He drove for about ten kilometers. The child had somehow managed to fall asleep-children could sleep through anything-and the mother was staring at him intently.

"So, " she said.

"I'm a Jedi," he said, finishing her question for her.

"I thought all the Jedi were dead."

"Most are," he replied, remembering how fortunate they had been to have picked that night to go out. If any little thing had been changed in the timeline-a Master had decided to take a midnight stroll and discovered them, one of them had developed a cold and so they had postponed the excursion, the possibilities were endless-he, Iter, Scree, Grend, and Aaspra would all be dead.

"How did you survive?"

Lak paused for a moment, turning the speeder along the route that would take them back to the city. The fact that there were Jedi alive and working for the Rebel Alliance was a closely guarded secret. But…

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you."


	19. The Board is Set

A/N: I know it's kind of cliched, but I couldn't resist naming these next two chapters after Gandalf's quote it the Lord of the Rings movie. Thank you WizardJedi, and Dante-Raven for all the reviews. And Dante-Raven, yes, this is when the Empire first begins to think of the Rebellion as a real threat.

Vevel was once again in Vader's personal quarters, again facing the black figure in the meditation chamber.

"Yes, Captain?"

"My Lord, the medics have completed their assessment of the stormtroopers found dead on Corellia." He raised the datapad containing the report. "'The soldiers were killed by near-microscopic cuts across their bodies. Partial cauterization was found along said cuts. Weapon used unknown, but was most definitely not a vibroblade.'"

"I see. Thank you, Captain."

After Vevel exited the room, Vader walked over to the holoprojecter and contacted his Master.

He waited for possibly ten minutes before the head appeared.

"Lord Vader. You have received the report?"

"Yes, my Master."

"What have you concluded?"

"Master, the wounds are unique to those caused by a lightsaber. At least one Jedi has survived the purge."

"Yes. Very good, Lord Vader."

"What is thy bidding, my Master?"

"Find this Jedi. If there is more than one, find all of them" The Emperor surveyed him, his dead, yellow eyes magnified by the hologram. "Do what must be done."

"Yes, my Master."

The hologram vanished.

Lak set the ship down in the _Kenobi_'s hangar. He punched the button to open the ramp, and escorted his passengers down. He nodded as the woman thanked him, then, as she, holding her daughter's hand, was escorted to her husband's cell, he reached out with the Force, striking them both with a brief period of unconsciousness. Their minds completely blank, he reached out and withdrew all memory either of them had of him-the rescue as well as everything he had told her. There was now absolutely no chance of either of them telling anyone about the Jedi. The secret was safe.


	20. The Pieces are Moving

A/N: Part two of the cliche. I've worked really hard so far to update everyday, but I am going to stop doing so, due to the fact that this chapter is kind of crap and I'm going to use that extra day to attempt to improve the quality of the chapters. Oh, and this chapter is very important to the plot, so **_REVIEW!_** Oh, and Emily, the reason you didn't get a thank you is because I couldn't care less what you think.

Vader surveyed the great plains that made up the planet of Ukio. Just above the horizon, he could see a mountain range, the giant, snow-capped peaks one of the few interruptions to the giant prairie that the planet consisted of.

And somewhere in that range was a rebel base.

It had been fairly simple to spark this miniature rebellion-he had simply pushed. And the rebel cell on the planet had begun to push back.

He had let them win the first few battles-they had lost a few outposts, but it had been necessary in order to let them think that they had had the element of surprise. But then he had struck back furiously, sending the hundreds of walkers and thousands of stormtroopers that traveled with the _Devastator _and her battle group in a crushing blow that had driven the rebels back to their base.

The other rebels, the ones who had struck at Fondor, had of course felt obligated to lend assistance to their comrades, and last night, three blockade runners had run the blockade around the planet. Their final destination was unknown, but Vader was confident that they had landed in the base in those mountains with reinforcements.

Which meant that the rebels would counterattack any moment.

Next to him, on the rocky outcropping on the very edge of a gully that stretched all the way from Vader to the mountains, stood the bounty hunter Boba Fett.

"Lord Vader."

Vader did not turn to face the stormtrooper. "What is it?"

"Our scouts at the edge of the mountains have reported that the rebels are leaving their defensive fortifications. We are awaiting your orders."

Fett activated the macrobinoculars built into his helmet. There. A large mass of what looked like ants at this distance. "I see them, sir." Fett was the only person, save the Emperor, whom Vader allowed to address him as anything other than 'My Lord.'

"Are the defenses in place?"

"Yes, Lord Vader," the stormtrooper replied.

"And the walkers?"

"Hidden, as per your orders."

"Then let the games begin."

-----

At the front of the Rebel attack group, piloting an ancient STAP left over from the Clone Wars, was Iter Wasp. He had been brought to the planet the previous night aboard the blockade runner _Corusca_, and was now charged with the task of assisting the rebels in their capture of the city of Montugra. Little did he know that not one of them would make it past the edge of the gully.

Fett checked his rifle to make sure it was fully charged. Almost directly beneath him, he could see the rebel army and the Imperial fortifications collide, and the ensuing firefight. He checked the mass of red for a hint of green or blue. There.

How alike he and Fett were, Vader thought. Neither had had a complete set of parents. Both had lost their parents at the hands of people they had then taken revenge on.

With one key difference. Vader-or Anakin as he had been known as then-had been ashamed of his actions. Fett had been proud.

Vader remembered the shame he had felt when he had confessed to Padmé about how he had handled his mother's death. He had sworn on her grave that he would never again be so weak as to let somebody he loved die.

And he had followed that oath. When he had first had visions of his wife dying, he had forsaken everything-the Jedi, his loyalty, his honor-to save her.

And then she had betrayed him.

The bitch.

He was startled out of his reverie by Fett's voice. "There, sir."

Vader looked where Fett had indicated. Sure enough, there was a Rodian, with a blue lightsaber blade, fighting alongside the rebels.

"Wait," he instructed Fett.

The Jedi leapt over a section of wall, and started making his way up the miniature canyon.

Directly below Vader.

Gathering the Force, Vader leapt down into the canyon, landing silently behind the Rodian.

----

Iter ran along the canyon, the tall walls obscuring the light and causing his lightsaber to cast shadows everywhere. If he could get come at the Imperials from behind while they didn't suspect his prescence-

He jumped at the snap-hiss of an igniting lightsaber. He turned, facing the new threat-

And found himself staring at Darth Vader.

His heart rate quickened. Darth Vader. The Jedi who had betrayed the Order. The Jedi who had massacred everyone in the temple-

His mind was being probed. But he was powerless to stop it. All his energy was being spent trying to predict and block Vader's blows.

----

The sounds of the two lightsabers crashing together resounded up and down the canyon, muted by the sounds of the battle. Vader swung. The Jedi moved to block-

But suddenly there was the whine of a blaster and the Jedi fell to the ground, a smoking hole in the back of his head.

Vader reached out with the Force. Nothing. The Rodian was dead.

He looked at Fett, whose blaster rifle was still smoking. "Go."

Fett activated his jetpack and blasted off, throwing himself into the heart of the battle. Vader signaled the stormtrooper above him, who spoke into a radio.

The battle came to a brief halt as the whine of the walkers' engines starting up permeated the battlefield.

Fifty All Terrain-Armored Transports rose out of their hiding places. The rebels, the inspiration that had given them the courage to fight the Empire suddenly gone, turned tail and fled.

But the AT-ATs gave them no such chance. Their guns blared, turning the ground around the retreating army into a wasteland of flame and smoke. Vader listened to their screams with great satisfaction. This rebellion, at least, would be short-lived.


	21. Shuttle Crashes

Qualt Zhu gently unpacked the personal ion cannon. The mission was simple. An Imperial shuttle would soon be returning to the _Devastator _battle group from Ukio. He was to shoot it down.

The case was about three feet long and a foot wide. Inside were five sections of pipe, each about a foot long, and a small handle. He stuck all the pipes together to form a cylinder, then jammed the handle into place. After giving it a cursory glance to make sure everything worked, he locked the case and sat down to wait.

About an hour later, he heard the distinctive whine of a _Lambda _shuttles engines. He rose to one knee and slung the device over his shoulder.

Judging by the intensity of the whine, he began to guess when the shuttle would come into view. When he reached one, he squeezed the trigger.

Just in time. Due to his position behind the rocky wall, he and the shuttle could not see each other. As it turned out, the shuttle passed only ten feet above his head.

The electronic _bzzzew_ of the blast being ionized immediately preceded the brilliant violet bolt out of the tube. Easily shrugging off the resistance the air provided, the bolt struck the belly of the shuttle directly in the center.

The shuttle began sparking as the ions began to interfere with the workings of its engines. The ship fell, smashing into the path not fifty feet from where he stood.

Mission accomplished.

But there would be survivors aboard. Survivors who would have valuable information…

Qualt sat down and waited. The only survivors who would be able to survive the trip back to the base were the ones who were strong enough to get themselves out of the crash.

His patience was rewarded less than a minute later, when a hand came shooting out of a gap in the wreck. He drew his pistol and walked over to the gap-

To find an unarmed man clawing his way out of the hole.

He leveled the blaster, his mouth twisting into a sadistic grin. "Get up. And show me your hands afterwards."

The man hurriedly complied. Qualt stared at his face. He had seen him somewhere before…

Then it hit him. His prisoner was one General Twerst Nu.

Commander of all ground forces in the _Devastator_ battle group.

Excellent.


End file.
